


Comfort Comes Softly

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS:  NoneSUMMARY:  Jack pays a homesick Daniel a visit





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Comfort Comes Softly

##  Comfort Comes Softly

##### Written by Lin   
Comments? Forward them to us at [yumadesign@aol.com](mailto:yumadesign@aol.com)

  * SPOILERS: None 
  * SUMMARY: Jack pays a homesick Daniel a visit 
  * G [HC] 



* * *

Come on, come on. How long did it take to answer the door, for heaven's sake?

"Jack?" Daniel's eyebrows climbed north while his jaw headed south. Geez. You'd think I'd never been to his apartment before. Okay, so maybe I haven't been here since we helped him move in three months ago, but with everything happening at the base lately as we've worked to get the kinks out of the Stargate program and cope with all the crap we're finding on the other side of the gate, I've been a little preoccupied.

"You gonna invite me in or just stand there and stare?" I asked.

"Oh. Yeah, come in," he stood aside, holding the door open for me. "What are you doing here Jack?"

"Thought I'd drop by for a beer."

"Um, I don't have any. There's coffee."

"Fine, fine." Daniel headed to the kitchen. I dropped down on the couch as he puttered around, then returned carrying two steaming cups. He handed me one, then sat in the armchair across from me. The soft strains of light jazz wafted out of the kitchen along with the smell of fresh brewed coffee.

"So, Jack. What are you doing here?"

"I never got around to asking you before you left base what you were planning on doing Friday night. We've got a few days off and I lucked into some tickets to the big game. It's gonna be great. Want to come with me?"

"I'm really not a sports fan."

"I know, but it'll be fun."

"Why don't you take Teal'c? It'd be a wonderful opportunity for him to observe some of the more primitive Earth . . ."

"Primitive?"

"You've got to admit it isn't exactly the ballet, Jack."

"Why would I want to waste my time watching a bunch of guys jump around in tutus." I happen to be a big fan of opera, but that's another ball game entirely. 

"Beauty, grace, and culture spring to mind."

"Hey, there's plenty of that at the game. There's nothing more beautiful then a last second score. Athletes are graceful, I'll have you know. They're just not decked out in pink tights."

"Anyway, as a warrior, I'm sure Teal'c will find the competition of a sporting event an interesting point of comparison to what he knew on Chulak."

"You have no idea how much red tape is involved in getting permission to take him off base. The big wigs have him on a tight leash. They don't trust him yet."

"I see. Well, you know . . . " he floundered. The truce between the two teammates was as professional as it was fragile. I had every hope that one day Daniel's open-mindedness would overcome his resentment of Teal'c's past actions. Teal'c had already expressed his deep regret over things his role as First Prime to Apophis had forced him to do, including the kidnapping of Daniel's wife, and had offered his apology. Daniel had accepted it in the same breath he had informed Teal'c that while he understood what the man was saying, it was going to take some time before he could forgive what the man had done. Both had left it at that.

"We can get some dinner before the game. There is this great grill downtown that does the thickest, juiciest steaks . . ."

"No, thanks, Jack. I was planning on staying home Friday and catching up on some personal stuff."

"Can't be as much fun as watching the game in a crowd of fans."

"Maybe not, but I think I'll pass all the same."

"You don't know what you're missing."

"I'll learn to live with it."

We drank our coffee in silence. I wasn't in a hurry to leave. When Daniel finished his cup, he took mine with him into the little kitchenette for a refill. I accepted the full mug with a smile. "Like what you've done with the place."

"I had some of my stuff in storage forwarded to me. Kind of fleshes out the place, makes it feel less like a motel room."

When Carter, Ferretti, and I had helped him move into the furnished apartment after he spent a month alternating between sleeping on a bunk on base or in my spare room, he had only a spare set of BDUs, few boxes of books and a plastic bag of clothing hastily purchased after his return from Abydos. We unloaded the donations of plates, pans, and linens from coworkers and helped him put away the pitifully few belongings before devouring a couple of fully loaded pizzas and a six pack of cold beer.

"Way cool swords." I tipped my mug towards the impressive collection expertly hung on the wall beside the bedroom door.

"Ah, my mother collected swords. I, um, inherited most of them from her, although I've added a few I came across as I traveled."

"Looks nice. Nothing brightens a place up like a couple of dozen lethal weapons gleaming on a handy wall."

"Um, thanks. I think."

"No problem."

"So, Jack?"

"So, Daniel."

"Do you, um, would you like a game of chess?"

"Sure. Bring it on."

He flashed a smile so brief I might have imagined it, then got up in search of a chessboard. A little rummaging produced a magnificent wooden board with alternating squares of finely grained woods and inlaid patterns of mother of pearl and mahogany around the edges. The mellow wood glowed with reflected light as he sat it down on the coffee table near my knees. He produced a smaller box with a matching pattern along its edges from which he removed finely carved pieces of ivory and ebony. Each piece showed signs of handling, though the exquisite detail was still clearly visible. Everything from the folded hands of the stately queen to the majestic head of the rearing steed said this was a rare work of art. I held an ivory castle up to the light. I swear I could make out ivy clinging to its stony sides.

"This is beautiful, " I said without meaning to. I looked up swiftly, a little uneasy both with my words and the thought of playing with such an obviously old and valuable set.

"This was my mother's too. I think it was given to her by her mother as a birthday gift when she was thirteen. It went to my grandfather after her death and then to me after he . . . became ill."

"We could use a different set. You know, for everyday."

"Put up the good china and get out the paper plates?"

"Something like that."

"No, this set was originally commissioned by my grandfather as an anniversary gift to my grandmother. It was made by one of the men on his dig who sold his carvings on the side. It was made to be used, not set on a table and admired."

"If you're sure. . . " I set the piece on its square. Daniel held up the two queens. I took the black queen from his hand. He nodded and began setting up the board.

We began to play. I had known before we started that he was going to be a tough opponent. This was the man who cracked the code that opened the Stargate in only two weeks when a whole herd of scientists had been hard at it for two years and hadn't figured out squat. I figured I had a lifetime of field strategy and combat experience on my side to help even the odds.

We played in silence. The only sounds in the apartment were the chiming of the mantel clock, the gurgle of the fish tank, and the soft jazz floating on the air. I hunched forward, elbows on my knees as I took a moment to study the man across from me. Daniel played with his head down over the board, eyes on the pieces. His long since empty cup sat on the carpet by his feet. A few months spent under a mountain had begun leaching the tan from his skin. The sun streaks in his hair were fading as well, the shaggy mop going from blonde to honey brown from the absence of the harsh Abydonian sun. There were other hanges as well since he first walked back down that gate ramp. Dark circles gave his face a bruised look, one that was strengthened by the red rimmed blue eyes blood shot from overwork, too much caffeine, and too little sleep. He had lost weight and muscle tone as well. 

He was rapidly becoming the shadow of the man who had strode into the briefing room in my hand-me-downs demanding to be assigned to my team so he could search for his kidnapped wife and brother-in-law. I knew what he was going through. I helped as best I could. I had taken him home with me when it became clear he had nowhere else to go. I had tried to see to it that he ate regular meals and got some shuteye. I've been through the grief that is so sharp it won't let you rest, won't give you the peace you need to pull yourself together. I fought to secure a place for him on my team. I went to bat for him to require all teams to be on the lookout for his missing family members. I forced him home with me and poured beer down him when he was vibrating from exhaustion and frustration. I helped him find an apartment so he could get on with rebuilding his life. I gave him an ear if he wanted to talk and a shoulder if he needed to lean.

Daniel is a hard man to comfort. He simply won't accept it. He jumps at a touch, and shies away from conversations that stray from the safe areas of the SGC or archeology. I haven't known him to accept any of the invitations that have come his way to grab a drink after shift or to join in any of the poker games scheduled for after hours. He moves through his days in an academic haze, astonishing people with his intellect and enthusiasm for the pursuit of knowledge at the same time keeping them at arms' length by an impenetrable wall of quiet grief.

"Check," he said with an unmistakable air of satisfaction. I scratched my jaw as I studied the board. Knowing I was only delaying the inevitable, I made a desperate move. He countered it quickly. I tried again. He moved his piece into place with a soft thunk of finality. "Checkmate."

"Looks like," I said as I leaned back against the cushions of the couch.

"That was a good game, Jack. You had me on my toes there for a while."

"For a while," I echoed with a grimace. I had known he had me beat after the first three moves. I was just too stubborn to admit it. There were times when unpredictable movements and unforeseen lines of attack could slow an opponent down, but I never had any real doubt who was going to win.

"I haven't played chess in ages," he said as he set the board up again. "I tried my hand at carving a set on Abydos using a kind of soapstone. I thought I'd teach Skarra and the boys how to play. What a mess. You couldn't tell the pawns from the bishops and you wouldn't believe how the knights turned out. I cut my fingers up so much, Sha'uri swore . . ."

His hand froze, the rook suspended over the board. The music in the air swelled as Daniel fell silent, his face hidden behind a curtain of hair.

"Gave you an ultimatum, did she? Stop playing with knives or start sleeping on the couch?"

"Not quite," he said quietly. I caught a glimpse of blue through golden brown. "There aren't any couches on Abydos. They pile rugs and pillows on the floor."

"Sounds homey."

"Yeah." The rook was set in its place. "Want some more coffee?"

Without waiting for my answer, he got up and retreated to the kitchen. He was gone much longer than necessary to pour up two mugs of coffee. I picked up the white king and queen. 

"Here you go," he said as he handed me a new mug. I accepted it and set it aside. I didn't want any more coffee, but that didn't matter to either of us.

"The craftsmanship is superb." I held the two pieces up. He took a swig of coffee, his eyes on me rather than the chessmen in my hand. 

"I was lucky to get the set back. A lot of my parents' things were lost over the years. I really hadn't expected to find my stuff still in storage after I got back. I had to pay the back rent to get it out as well as shipping, but at least the owners had never gotten around to selling it off."

"Good thing." I set the pieces back on the board and settled back, stretching my legs out. Daniel watched me make myself comfortable. He cocked his head as the understanding sank in that I wasn't going anywhere.

"Want to play again?" he asked, his gaze unwavering. I held his eyes as I nodded. To be perfectly honest, I hadn't intended to spend the evening getting skunked at chess. I'd rather be arguing over a ref's call while downing a cold one, or watching a vintage black and white movie in the dark, popcorn in hand. I had come over with the intention of cheering up the man I had come to accept as a friend as well as a teammate, to help him through the painful transition into his new life, to let him know that he didn't have to do it alone. If being humiliated at chess was the way to accomplish that goal, who was I to quibble?

"Best two out of three. Loser has to buy the beer next time," I said as I leaned forward.

"Next time?" 

"I figure Friday night after the game, we can have a rematch. You ought to have recovered from your resounding defeat by then and be up for another game."

"Resounding defeat, huh?"

"Who knows? If my team wins, I might be in such a gracious mood I'll let you win. One or two, you know, for old time's sake."

"How . . . gracious of you."

"Gracious, that's me. Ask anyone."

"I didn't say I'd go to the game with you, Jack."

"You will," I said with complete confidence. I may not be at his level of expertise in chess, but I was a damn fine tactician. I knew how to outflank the enemy with the best of them. I made my opening move. "It's your turn."

**Fin**

  


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> Feedback is welcomed on or off list. This is just a short piece comfort for anyone who needs a break from the harsh realities of the past week.

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> September 13, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. 

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